


Unholy Pub Crawl

by Lord_Chungus



Category: A Practical Guide To Evil, Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Catherine gives weird advice, Catherine is a useless Bi, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Homucifer, Knowledge of APGTE not required, post-rebellion, she fits right in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 13:12:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15908958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lord_Chungus/pseuds/Lord_Chungus
Summary: A few weeks after stealing Madoka's Godhood, Homura receives an invitation to the so-called "Goddess Pub". But who is this 'Catherine' that invited her, and what does she know about Madoka?One-Shot





	Unholy Pub Crawl

HHomura Akemi takes a long sip of tea, relishing its bitter taste. She lounges on the throne she had made for herself, watching Madoka talk with her friend, unseen. After the… incident in the hallway, Madoka’s memories had been kind enough to stay down, but she was still in danger of remembering her status as the Law of Cycles. Yes, that was why Homura was watching Madoka try on new outfits. It was all purely pragmatic, you see.  
  
Oh, who was she kidding? She had torn down a Goddess and created a new world out of love for Madoka, so admitting that she was just enthusiastic about seeing her after all this time was the least she could do. Madoka was Perfect and Here, so why not watch her? It’s not like Homura had anything better to do.  
  
No, she wasn’t lonely, why do you ask?  
  
As Homura lied to herself about mental status, she continued watching as Madoka came out of the changing room wearing a skirt and sweater combination, yellow and pink respectively. It looked amazing on her, as most things did, but Homura couldn’t help but think it a tad… bland. Madoka still looked better than most supermodels, sure, but she could look far better if only she became more confident in herself.  
  
“What do you think?” asks Madoka, unaware of Homura’s presence.  
  
“It looks okay,” Sayaka says, walking around Madoka to inspect it. “But I think it ’s a bit… boring. How about that outfit over there?”  
  
Sayaka points to a pink dress, frilly and utterly gorgeous. It would look amazing on Madoka, Homura already knows, but Madoka herself doesn’t seem too pleased with it.  
  
“It’s a bit flashy,” says Madoka. “Wouldn’t it be fancy, or too cute?”  
  
Of course, Madoka is still her own worst enemy, right after the Devil herself. Madoka’s lack of self-confidence has only really made her life harder, but at this moment it has truly made the world a worse place.  
  
“Oh come on, try it,” says Sayaka. “Worst case scenario, you look too good, and your secret admirers become not-so-secret.”  
  
Madoka blushes, looking down at the floor.  
  
“But Sayaka, I don’t have any secret admirers!”  
  
“Madoka, they’re secret. If you knew you had them, then what would be the point?”  
  
Over the many years spent trying to save Madoka, Homura often questioned why she bothered trying to save Sayaka Miki. Aside from sentimentality, this was the biggest reason why. In terms of getting Madoka to be confident and wear something cute, Sayaka was second only to Junko Kaname herself in terms of success. Homura’s mind wandered as she stalk- no,  _observed_  Madoka, but a twinge of power from a few inches in front of her made her snap to attention.  
  
What was that? She thought to herself, panic seeping into her mind. Did Madoka remember again? But that can’t be, she’s right in front of me… Her question was soon answered, as a sheet of paper appeared in front of her with a quiet ‘thwoop’.   
  
This was alarming for many reasons. First off, the sheet of paper, upon closer inspection, revealed itself to be a letter addressed to “You Goddess Bitch.” This would almost certainly be Homura herself, who. If asked, would admit that she was both a Goddess and a Bitch.  
  
(Madoka would happily agree with the former point and argue against the latter, most likely before wondering why she knew all this and oh hey there are her memories. Yeah, Homura wasn’t going to bring  _that up any time soon.)_  
  
The second most alarming thing about the mysterious letter was the simple fact that technically, Homura didn’t exist right now. It was easy to erase herself from existence, and unlike her metaphysically challenged (girl?)friend, Homura had no problem going from existing to not.  
  
So with all of the above taken into account, it’s rather easy to see how Homura Akemi might be just a tiny bit freaked out right now.  
  
Homura was breathing heavily, breath coming out in short pants as she tried to force herself to calm down. If this is addressed to me, then I should probably read it, she thinks. With shaky hands, she grabs the letter and flips it open. The handwriting is sloppy, as if written by a half-drunk doctor going through a full-body spasm, but Homura can mostly make out what’s being said.  
  
_Get the fuck over here_ , says the letter.  _What in the multi-layered hells are you waiting for? I may have all eternity, but I don't have all day, you know? -Catherine_  
  
Well, that is rather cryptic, thinks Homura. Even odder, she can sense a hint of power still inside the letter; a brief prod reveals it to be some sort of magical invitation, that she can use to bring herself to wherever it is the mysterious ‘Catherine’ wants her to be.  
  
Well, no time like the present.  
  
Homura claps her hands, stopping the world in place and summoning her familiars to her side.  
  
“Well, it seems our Good-For-Nothing has some use of us,” says one of them. “What does our Good-For-Nothing request of us?”  
  
“I need you to watch over Madoka Kaname and the others,” says Homura. “If they do anything suspicious or look like they're Remembering, contact me immediately.”  
  
The Clara Dolls start nodding and chattering away, but Homura’s already returned to ignoring them. Putting her hand on the letter, she transforms into her black dress, ready to appear as a Devil. Black feathers scatter around her, and she adopts the devilish smile she wears on such… official business. Grasping the bundle of power in the letter, she  _pulls,_ and disappears from Mitakihara.  
  
The sensation of traveling to a different world is odd, but not dissimilar to being pulled into a witch’s barrier. Once the process is complete, Homura opens her eyes and takes in her surroundings.  
  
The area around her is pitch-black, completely empty except for a wooden door in front of her. She hesitantly reaches out, putting a hand on the door. Taking a second to slow her beating heart, Homura, pushes open the door, shutting her eyes at the sudden flood of light.  
  
With a touch of power, Homura adjusts her eyes to the light, and opens them to see what sort of room she has stepped into.  
  
The room is dim, made of polished wood, styled after an old-school tavern. There are circular tables scattered throughout the room, but none are occupied. In fact, the whole room is void of life, with the sole exception of a girl sitting at the counter.  
  
“What took- oh, hello,” says the girl. “You’re new.” Her voice is odd, most likely magically translated from some foreign language, with what Homura thinks to resemble a British accent.  
  
The girl is somewhat short, about Homura’s height, with brown eyes and black hair. Her skin is dark brown, the kind that comes from both a naturally dark complexion as well as a deep tan. Her clothes are plain, pants and shirt made of brown cloth.  
  
“Well, this is awkward,” says the girl. “I’m Catherine Foundling, I run this place.”  
  
“Greetings,” says Homura. “What exactly is this... place, if you don’t mind me asking?”  
  
“Oh, no worry,” says Catherine. “Have a seat, and I’ll explain over a drink.”  
  
Homura walks over to the bar, hopping onto one of the stools and leaning on the counter as Catherine walks around and goes inside the bartender’s section.  
  
“Anything in particular you want?” she asks. “Actually, do you even drink booze?”  
  
“Not really, no,” Homura says, “Do you have any tea?”  
  
“Tea?” says Catherine, tilting her head. “Well, yeah, I guess, if that’s really what you want.”  
  
She reaches down and pulls out a drawer, shuffling through before pulling out three bags.  
  
“Alright, do ya want Laure field tea, Wasteland tiger tea, or Alamanten nobili-tea?”  
  
“Nobili-tea?” Homura asks. “Is, is that a…”  
  
“It’s a shitty pun,” says Catherine. “Tastes like shit, too. Yeah, I must have been pretty drunk when I got this.”  
  
Homura fidgets, not entirely sure what to do with this new information. It had been quite a while since she had actual social interaction, what with the whole ‘turning into a witch and then the devil and re-writing the universe’ thing.  
  
“And the Tiger tea?”  
  
“Made from 100% invisible tigers,” says Catherine. “Hella expensive, but it turns out that you don’t have to pay for it if you loot it from enemy cities.”  
  
“I’ll have the field tea, then,” says Homura. “Unless there’s something odd about it as well?”  
  
“No, not really,” says Catherine. “Unless you count being harvested by reanimated zombie farmers weird?”  
  
Homura chuckles, unsure of how to respond. After a minute of silence, the tea is presented to her, boiling hot.  
  
“Well, here ya go,” says Catherine. “Now, talking time.”  
  
She then proceeds to not talk, and in fact do the exact opposite; she grabs a bottle of wine from under the counter and pops the lid open, lifting it up to her mouth and chugging the whole thing.  
  
As she stares in both horror and awe at the display, Homura can’t help but notice that a few things are… wrong. Catherine’s throat doesn’t seem to move whenever she swallows, she doesn’t once pause for air, and her flesh seems to become more flesh-like the more she drinks. She eventually sets the empty bottle down, belching as she takes out a bottle of some brown fluid and pours herself a glass.  
  
“That was... impressive,” says Homura. “I hope you don't expect me to do something similar.”  
  
“Nah,” says Catherine. “That's just a Me thing. Besides, you don't really look like you're old enough to drink. How old are you, if you don't mind my asking?”  
  
“Either sixteen or twenty-five, depending on how you count it,” says Homura.  
  
“Wait- wait a second!” says Catherine, slapping the bar. “You're uh, whatshername, Homura! You're Homura Akemi!”  
  
Homura tenses, making an effort not to grip her mug so hard it breaks.  
  
“How do you know my name?” asks Homura. “I have never met you before in my life, and yet you seem to know who I am.”  
  
“Madoka talks about you all the time!” says Catherine. “It was cute at first, then sad, and now it's just annoying. I can only listen to the sentence “Homura-chan is so amazing!” so many times before I want to kill someone.”  
  
“Madoka talked about me?” says Homura, eyes wide. “This only raises  _further_  questions! How do you know  _Madoka!_ ”  
  
“What do you think this pub is for?” says Catherine. “It's called the Goddess Pub, it's where I meet up with Goddesses for a drink! Though by 'Goddesses”, I really mean Madoka. I haven't really, you know, found any others.”  
  
“But, but how! Madoka became a concept, how could you possibly interact with her in this place?”  
  
“Well, I had help from a very smart friend. We figured out how to let metaphysical entities exist physically in this spot, and a few days later, Madoka showed up.”  
  
Catherine takes a sip of her drink, looking back at Homura.  
  
“Say, do you know what's keeping Madoka? I sent her a letter, but she still hasn't shown.”  
  
Homura freezes, thinking back to the letter she received. Meanwhile, Catherine's gaze has started to become one of suspicion, as she begins to put the pieces together.  
  
“Speaking of that, how did  _you_  become a Goddess? I know Madoka did it with her wish, but if you already made your wish...”  
  
Homura shuffles awkwardly, staring at the floor.  
  
“Well, I may or may not have, you know... tornherdownandstolenhergodhood?”  
  
“You did fucking  _what_.”  
  
“It was necessary to make her happy!”  
  
Catherine's hand is firmly on her face, and she parts her fingers to fix Homura with a tired look.  
  
“So let me get this straight; you want Madoka to be happy.”  
  
Homura nods.  
  
“And you think she wasn't happy as a Goddess because...”  
  
“Before I tore her down from heaven, I had a talk with her where she said she would never want to leave her friends and family.”  
  
“But didn't she, you know, do exactly that?”  
  
“Well, sure. But when I talked to Madoka, she had lost her memories of being the Law of Cycles.”  
  
“And that's why you stole her Godhood?”  
  
“Yes, exactly.”  
  
Catherine sighs, taking her head from her hands only to slam it into the bar's edge.  
  
“So what the fuck's going on now that you're the..”  
  
“The Devil.”  
  
“A tad edgy, but sure. What's the world like, now that you're the Devil?”  
  
Homura places a hand on her chin, thinking.  
  
“Well, Madoka, Sayaka, and the whole bunch are trapped inside the world I created for them; there is no magic, no Incubators, nothing extraordinary.”  
  
“I feel like you're leaving out a pretty big part of the non Madoka-and-co population.”  
  
“They're in the so-called real world, where there are magical girls and witches, but only a few Incubators. It seems that, in my brief period of universe-altering, I was too focused on creating a perfect world for Madoka and missed a few Incubator bodies, so a few still remain in the real world.”  
  
“Wait, you killed most of the Incubators? If you could do that, why not just make the  _real world_  into Madoka’s perfect world?”  
  
“If I erased all magic, then I, as a being of magic, would not be able to exist. And if I simply erased all magic not my own, then I have no doubt the Incubators would find some way to harness it.”  
  
Catherine takes another long sip from her glass, and Homura honestly can’t tell if the woman is intrigued by the situation or simply irritated.  
  
“Well, that’s a fuck and a half,” says Catherine. “In any case, how perfect  _is_  your so-called perfect world?”  
  
“It’s Perfect,” says Homura.  
  
“And sorely lacking a thesaurus, it seems. But still, I can’t imagine that Madoka’s happy, living in a fake world while everything else goes to shit.”  
  
Homura shuffles, avoiding eye contact.  
  
“Well, that’s the thing,” she says. “Madoka doesn’t. Know about the fake world, I mean.”  
  
Catherine raises an eyebrow, gazing at her empty glass.  
  
“So she thinks, what, that magic suddenly disappeared, she’s human again, and you started an emo phase? There’s something more you aren’t telling me.”  
  
“See, Madoka doesn’t remember magic either,” says Homura. “I erased her memories, so now she can live a… normal… life…”  
  
She trails off, trying not to wither under Catherine’s glare.  
  
“ _You fucking what?”_  
  
“Madoka can’t be happy if she feels she could be sacrificing herself as a magical girl!” says Homura. “So taking away her memories was the only thing I could do!”  
  
“And what about you? You know her because of magic, so does she not remember you?” shouts Catherine.  
  
“Of course not!” scoffs Homira. “I can only bring her pain; far better that she never remembers me at all!”  
  
Catherine raises tired eyes to meet Homura's fiery gaze.  
  
“That’s it,” she says. “I’m done! I’m fucking done!”  
  
She rises out of her chair, smashing the empty glass on the counter. She strides forward, feet pounding on the wood floor, and grabs Homura by the shoulders.  
  
“How are you so fucking dense!” says Catherine, practically screaming. “How? Madoka’s head-over-fucking- _heels_  for you, and you think making her forget you is going to make her happy?”  
  
“N-No!” says Homura, shaking her head. “Madoka- Madoka doesn’t love me, not like that. Perhaps she thought me a friend, but would a friend betray her as I did?”  
  
“What, pray tell, the  _fuck?_  Did you get the stupid feathers for your stupid dress from the empty space where your brain should be? Madoka’s so in love with you that  _Masego_  can see it, and he’s even denser than you are!”  
  
Catherine begins shaking Homura back and forth, much to the latter’s annoyance.  
  
“I had him make a spell that could detect homosexuality, a literal gaydar, and do you know what happened?”  
  
Homura shakes her head, overwhelmed by all the shouting, and Catherine takes it as her sign to continue.  
  
“MADOKA FUCKING BROKE IT THE SECOND I SAID YOUR NAME! A spell! She broke a fucking  _spell_ , with nothing but her feelings for you!”  
  
“B-But, she said I was her best friend…”  
  
Catherine stops, turning her gaze to the floor.  
  
“I can’t believe it,” she says, sitting back down, subdued. “I thought she was just being dumb, but she was right…”  
  
“Catherine? What are you talking about?”  
  
Catherine puts her head in her hands, defeated. “A while back, Madoka and I were talking about times we’d fucked up, and she mentioned… well, best to just show you.”  
  
With a wave of her wrist, Catherine summons a thick, pale mist. Homura stares, confused, as it splits off into two forms, and her eyes widen as the forms take on a more familiar look.  
  
“Madoka…” whispers Homura, no louder than a breath.  
  
“My biggest screw-up,” says the life-like illusion of Madoka. “Well, I want to say it was something I did before I ascended, but…”  
  
“But what?” says the other illusion, who now looks and sounds like Catherine.”You can’t just leave me hanging, Madoka.”  
  
“Well, I guess…” Madoka twirls her finger, taking a deep breath. “Right after I ascended, when I first became a concept and re-wrote the universe, I had a talk with Homura-“  
  
“And you had Naked Lesbian Space Hugs, you’ve told me this before.”  
  
Madoka shakes her head, bits of mist coming off at the edges.  
  
“No, I don't regret that. But when I was saying goodbye, I, well…”  
  
“You said she reminded you of your mother? Cause let me tell ya, that’s one hell of a turn-off.”  
  
“No, nothing like that! But I… I said she was my best friend!”  
  
Catherine chokes on her drink, spraying wine all over her companion.  
  
“Are-are you serious?” says Catherine. “Wow, talk about blowing your shot.”  
  
“I know, right?”  
  
Catherine pounds her chest, trying to get the last of the booze out of her technically-not-real lungs.  
  
“Well normally I’d say ya fucked up, but this-Hameru? Homura?- the Homura girl seems pretty smart, and also  _very_  into you, so she should be able to tell.”  
  
Homura stares at the illusion, eyes wide. “What is this?” she asks Catherine, turning towards her host. “Why are you showing me this?”  
  
“Cause Dokes loves ya, and you can’t seem to figure that out,” responds Catherine. “As for the what, this is a memory of mine, played out with glamour; basically fancy illusion magic,” she clarifies, seeing Homura’s look of confusion.  
  
Back in the glamour-memory, Madoka slowly nods her head. “Yeah, maybe,” she says. Resting her head on the bar counter, she sighs. “I miss her so much. Sometimes, when Sayaka’s taking care of the other magical girls and I’m all alone in our heaven, I get this ugly voice in the back of my head.”  
  
“The ‘kill anyone who talks back to you’ voice, or the ‘have fun with the maids’ voice?”  
  
“Neither of them!” says Madoka. “It’s just, I get lonely, without Homura.” She sighs, dragging her palms down her face. “Sometimes, when it gets really bad, I… I think ‘what if I didn’t give her a second chance at life?’ It’s so selfish of me, wishing she was dead just so that I could be around her, and I hate myself for it, but I can’t help it.”  
  
Homura stares at Madoka, eyes wide. Catherine notices this, putting a hand on Homura’s shoulder.  
  
“Let me guess,” she says. “You always wanted to be with Madoka, in her heaven?”  
  
“I never wanted anything else,” says Homura, fighting back tears. “I, I thought she wanted me to live in her new world, to be its guardian, so I kept fighting, kept going on even when I just wanted to be with her.”  
  
Unaware of Homura’s realization, Madoka continues.  
  
“Whenever I get those thoughts, I just look down at Homura,” she says. “And I see that she’s still fighting, still trying. When I first sent her back, I wanted to give her the second chance for the life she never had, but I worried that she didn’t  _want_  that. That she only wanted to be with me. But when I look down and see her fighting, I know that she must want it. Because Homura is amazing, but she’d never fight so hard for something she didn’t believe in.”  
  
“I thought that was what you wanted of me!” screams Homura. “I thought you wanted me to fight for you, so I never let myself fall into despair! I never wanted a second chance, I just wanted to be with you!”  
  
The corners of Homura’s eyes begin to tear up, but she wipes them away.  
  
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she says to no one, as if trying to convince herself. “It’s all over now, and you can be happy, Madoka. You’ll be happy now, forever and ever.”  
  
“Will she though?” Catherine says, dispelling the illusion. “How long do you think your Perfect World will last?”  
  
“Not forever,” says Homura. “Maybe not even for a full year, depending on how quickly Madoka remembers. But I can’t just sit back and let her cry, not when I could give a normal life with her friends and family.”  
  
“No, no, you don’t get it,” says Catherine. “I’m saying that going to heaven with Madoka, spending the rest of eternity with her?  _That_  would make her happy, more than anything else would.”  
  
Homura pulls away, returning to her seat and taking a minute to reign in her feelings. Keeping her eyes on her guest, Catherine pours herself another drink, and then another, and then one more for good luck.  
  
“So your world won’t last forever?” says Catherine, trying to break the heavy silence. “In that case, what do you think will happen when Madoka remembers everything?”  
  
“She will defeat me, of course,” says Homura, calm and composed. “It is inevitable, yet I must fight anyway.”  
  
“And then what?” says Catherine. “Once Madoka’s won and returned to her place as the Law of Cycles, what happens then?”  
  
“She will have to imprison me, I suppose. Or maybe, depending on how close the fight is, and how loudly Sayaka Miki protests, she may even have to kill me.” Homura grins at that last bit, dry and cruel. “And then, I suppose, she could truly be happy, free of my evil and having lived her ideal life”  
  
She pauses, waiting for Catherine’s inevitably sarcastic response, but her host’s silence puts her on edge.  
  
“C-Catherine-”  
  
“No.”  
  
It’s only one word, spoken at regular volume, but it’s enough to send a chill down Homura’s spine.  
  
“Catherine, what-”  
  
“Are you fucking insane!” yells Catherine, getting out of her seat and stomping towards Homura. “You want her to  _kill you_? Did you not just finish seeing her declare her undying love for you?”  
  
She grabs Homura’s head, leaning down until their noses are almost touching.  
  
“You go on and on about how you want to make her happy, and then you try to make her kill the person she loves? Living without her family will make her homesick,  _did_  make her sad, but having to kill you, or even just imprison you forever? Homura, that would  _break her._ ”  
  
Catherine sighs, releasing her grip on Homura and falling back into her seat.  
  
“What would you have me do?” asks Homura. “Just leave her be, isolated from her family? Give up, after coming so far?”  
  
“Is the other option any better?” says Catherine. “You want to make her happy, yeah?” Homura nods, but Catherine doesn’t wait before continuing. “Then talk to her. The two of you are so dense that you can’t even confess to each other while doing Naked Lesbian Space Hugs, so why not work things out with her face to face?”  
  
“But then-”  
  
“You’d have to restore her memories,” finishes Catherine. “And yeah, maybe she’ll try to fight back the second she remembers. But Homura, you have to take the risk. You have to  _trust her._  Trust that she’ll listen to you, trust that she’ll be open and honest, and try to work something out with her. Because the path you’re going down? It ends with Madoka unhappy, maybe for the rest of her life, and I know you don’t want that. She doesn’t want that either, so…”  
  
“So talk,” finishes Homura. “That’s it? Talk to her, and hope everything works out?”  
  
“You can’t make her happy if you don’t listen to her,” says Catherine. “Have you ever really spoken with her, since she’s Ascended? Madoka as she is now, the Law of Cycles, not Madoka as she was before.”  
  
Homura goes to nod, but eventually shakes her head.  
  
“Even so, what if she says I should give up my power, and return with her to heaven?" says Homura. "Should I simply… accept it?”  
  
Catherine shrugs. “If that would make her happy, then yeah.”  
  
Homura frowns, but snaps her head up as a thought occurs to her.  
  
"Say, Catherine," she says. "Why exactly do you care so much about Madoka's happiness? You could only have known her for just over a year, and as a Goddess yourself you must have far more important things to do."  
  
Catherine grins, shaking her head.  
  
"The answer is simple, my dear Homura. If I'm helping you, then I don't have to do paperwork."  
  
Homura blinks, surprised by the simplicity of the answer. This was Catherine's way of... shirking work?  
  
"Now, I love my kingdom, I really do, but that does  _not_ translate to a love of paperwork," continues Catherine. "If I spend my days in here, getting wasted and waiting for something important to come up, Hakram will be here within the week, and he'll bring my paperwork with him. But if I'm busy helping two small lesbians be happy... Well, would he really interrupt such important work?"  
  
Smirking, she wraps an arm around Homura’s shoulders.  
  
“But speaking of you two, I’ve got a lot to teach you about making girls happy.”  
  
“W-What?” says Homura, trying not to blush.  
  
“Well, there are quite a few things I can’t teach you, cause, well, you’re taken and also a bit young, but those aren’t my only tricks.”  
  
Homura’s blush fades as she realizes that Catherine is most likely teasing her. Or maybe she’s giving her actual advice? Probably both.  
  
“See, there’s a lot of ways to make a girl happy, but half involve finances and the other half involves a complex grasp of your emotions as well as hers, and you don’t seem like a master in either of those fields.”  
  
Homura sighs, prepared for the teasing remark but still disappointed.  
  
“Catherine, you say this like you can teach me something,” says Homura, a dry smirk finding its way to her face.  
  
“Oh, I can teach you  _lots_ , and half of Laure will back me up on that,” says Catherine. “But I digress. Now, dating tips; if she says she’s not angry, she may very well be angry, but assuming she is will make her  _very_ angry. If you get into an argument, don’t freak out, it’s not the end of the relationship. If she transcends space and time for you, she’s a keeper.”  
  
Homura smiles at the last part, comfortable in the odd bar. As the two of them bantered and talked throughout the night, Homura’s mind kept coming back to what Madoka had said, what Catherine had said, and the solution presented to her.  
  
Would it work? Would Madoka truly trust her enough to let Homura keep the Law of Cycles, and trust that they could talk it out?  
  
Did Madoka love her?  
  
_Yes_ , said a voice in the back of her head, one she had learned to ignore.  _It will all work out, so long as you trust her._  
  
And for the first time in many, many years, Homura thought that maybe, just maybe, the voice was right.


End file.
